Illusory Sky
by Valdryfor
Summary: In another life, Sarah Lyons and the Lone Wanderer face a different set of trials, but the one thing that remains the same is the magnetism that draws them together.


**Warnings:** Femslash, sexual content, and, given the era in which this takes place, racial slurs against Asian Americans. Obviously AU.

-x X x-

**(1950)**

The first time she ever laid eyes on Leilani, she saw a jaded teenage girl walking with her head lowered in a country that reviled her.

Sarah Lyons had witnessed plenty of anti-Asian sentiment before, during, and after the second World War, but as she watched the lone figure heading in the direction of the local high school, some protective instinct surged up inside her when several loitering greaser delinquents took notice. The girl had partially hidden her face behind a curtain of long, finger-curled, jet-black hair, yet even then, slurs like "Jap bitch" and "chink eyes" rang out from the group of young men now following her. Sarah hardly considered herself a civil rights activist, especially since she'd ignored public displays like this before, but for reasons she couldn't explain at the time, this marked the first instance where such blatant harassment enraged her.

The chatter between her fellow Army medics around the cafe veranda faded into the background as she rose from her chair and vaulted over the black iron railing, dry cleaned uniform skirt be damned. Replacing her garrison cap over her short blonde bob, she stomped after the jeering greasers, her low-heeled pumps clacking on the pavement. The girl paid no attention to her pursuers until she reached an intersection with a red light, and although she kept her back to them as they drew nearer, her shoulders tensed noticeably under her blue cardigan.

As soon as the first greaser lunged forward and knocked the textbooks from her arms, Sarah's temper snapped.

"Back _off_," she barked, the order echoing across the entire block.

Her command voice drew the attention of all in the vicinity, including the girl, who rotated to peer at her through the long dark tresses.

"Aw, what's the problem, Sergeant Sweet-cheeks?" one greaser drawled, looking Sarah up and down as she approached. "Well, well, if we'd seen ya earlier, we woulda come say hey, but give us a minute to screw with this Jap, and then I'll buy ya a drink for your service. _Ma'am_."

"Yeah, didn't youse Army types just get done fighting these gooks?" another piped up. "Ain't no hero-ing need to be done here, baby-cakes, so relax."

The group turned on Sarah, numbering seven in total. She guessed at least half of them carried concealed weapons, but if things escalated to violence—well, her military experience spanned more than just the medical field, to put it simply.

"One, I'm not from this town, so whatever your jurisdiction says the consequences are for putting a bunch of punks in their place, it doesn't apply to me," she declared, glaring at each of them. "Two, I know you boys are probably dumber than a bag of bricks, so I won't bother explaining the difference between this kid—clearly an innocent student—and actual enemy soldiers. Just get lost, and we won't have a problem."

The hoots and guffaws erupted all at once, and she endured another round of derogatory insults as the girl bent down to pick up her books, prompting one of the burlier greasers to grab at her. Sarah had enough time to blink before some lightning-fast maneuver sent the offender barreling to the ground. A second of stunned silence passed, and then all hell broke loose.

The sound of several switchblades flicking open accompanied a chorus of yelled threats, but Sarah moved fast, and the fighting techniques she'd secretly picked up from the male soldiers' training sessions came into play. In a flash, she disarmed and disabled the three greasers who advanced on her, using their momentum against them to make up for her restricted range of motion in her uniform. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw people stopping in their tracks to gawk while others ran off to presumably alert the police of the altercation.

One other delinquent lunged for her, and she sidestepped his attack to deliver an easy counterblow to the back of his head, knocking him out. When no one else came charging at her, she glanced over and found the other half of the group sprawled and unconscious at the feet of the girl. Sarah blinked, puzzled at first as to what happened. But then she spotted the red marks on the other's hands, and as she opened her mouth to ask if she'd done that, sirens wailed in the distance.

"Cops. We have to go," the girl said in a perfect American accent.

Without giving Sarah time to react, she seized her hand and pulled her along toward a nearby alley. Sarah went willingly, adrenaline still pumping as her curiosity increased. They jogged through the rank backstreets, taking paths that led them farther away from the scene of the scuffle. Sarah attempted to memorize the route back in case she ended up too far from her hotel, but she kept growing distracted by a subtle vanilla-like scent that wafted over her.

Finally, they emerged from the alleyways and crossed into a vacant lakeside park. The soft grass gave beneath their footfalls, and they slowed down to catch their breaths as a flock of birds flew out of their path. Sarah had dropped her garrison cover somewhere back there, and she could only imagine the tongue-lashing she'd receive from her father once the renowned Colonel Owen Lyons found out his daughter had managed to make a spectacle of herself—and lose part of her uniform—during her first temporary duty assignment as a newly commissioned officer.

A welcome breeze swept over them as they came to a halt near a set of swings. The girl released her and used both arms to hug the textbooks to her chest, still panting. Sarah stood a few feet away and tried to catch a clear glimpse of her face, but she had lowered her head again and retreated into the shield of black hair.

"Hey," Sarah started once her heart rate dropped to normal, "what's your name?"

Through the long strands, a dark brown iris peeked out. "Leilani."

Sarah took in the angelic-sounding voice and drew closer. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Thank you for your help," the girl told her, seeming to gather herself. "I usually don't get that much trouble from the delinquents when I walk to school, so I'm glad you stepped in."

"I'm surprised you even walk alone," Sarah remarked. "Though I see you're not exactly defenseless."

"I can hold my own through basic karate, but not against that many at once, and you probably know that cops in Texas don't take kindly to Japanese people being violent even if it is self-defense," Leilani stated, sighing as she reached up to brush her hair back. "Sorry I dragged you with me, Miss…?"

The older woman could barely remember her own name as she gazed at Leilani's features for the first time. "Sarah. I'm Sarah. You're really, uh, Japanese?"

She caught herself before blurting out the word "beautiful," even though that was the perfect adjective to describe the girl. Sarah had long ago accepted her attraction to women, but Leilani's looks were something else entirely. She also appeared a bit different from others of her ethnicity; still exotic and petite, but subtly… distinctive.

"I'm half, actually. My mom is… was…" Leilani trailed off, suddenly sounding distressed. "Um, anyway, thanks again for your kindness. I wasn't thinking when I grabbed your hand and ran, but at least now I can express how grateful I am."

Sarah froze when Leilani stepped forward and leaned toward her. The scent of vanilla surrounded them at once as the girl cupped Sarah's chin and stood on her tip-toes to plant a kiss on her cheek. The action was quick and sweet, but the brief touch of Leilani's lips against her skin sent a rush of pleasant warmth through her veins. She had never thought of herself as the type to become drawn to someone she'd just met—and dear God, how old was this girl?—but somehow, she felt it: the mysterious pull of an unseen string that tied them together. She couldn't leave it like this.

In a moment of desperation, she clutched Leilani's arm when the latter made to leave. "Wait. I just want to ask a few things before you go. The first being, exactly how old are you?" Sarah asked, realizing her potentially compromising position.

"Almost eighteen. I'll be graduating high school soon," Leilani replied, tilting her head at the question. "Why?"

"I was wondering if we could stay in contact through telegrams. I'm here for just a few more days, then I head back to California with my medic team."

"Oh. Why would you want to stay in contact with me?"

_Is it just me, or is this uniform shirt getting too tight?_ Sarah thought as she tugged on her collar and fumbled for an answer. "It's just… look, I served in the war until the end, and five years later, I'm still pretty ignorant about your people. I know those of you living here are often mistreated even if you're clearly American, and you're the first person who has really made me care." She stopped herself right there, wishing she could bite all of it back. "Sorry. That sounds strange. And rather offensive."

Leilani stared at her, expression unreadable. "So you want to know more about us?"

"Yes. Or, you know, about you," she said without thinking.

Something shifted around them at that moment, an alteration so faint that she almost missed it. But there, in Leilani's dark eyes, a new type of interest grew.

"I'd like that, then," the girl declared, sending her a hopeful look. "I wouldn't have been able to forget you, anyway."

Sarah fought to contain her widening grin. "So pen pals?"

Leilani gave her a smile that mirrored what she felt in her core. "It's a start."


End file.
